Something Green
by Yva J
Summary: Saint Patrick's Day oneshot. Willy's uncertainties about the day are realized when he discovers magic.


_AN: As a child we would celebrate St. Patrick's day, and the child in me found a sort of 'magic' in the holiday, so I wrote this as a sort of Willy Wonka fairy tale. It's Wilder Wonka, and it's my St. Patrick's day gift to you._

_Enjoy and don't forget that green jacket and top hat._

* * *

**Something Green**

By: Yva J.

As Charlie Bucket arrived at home after a long school day, he made his way in the direction of Willy Wonka's office, his eyes taking in the rainbow colored corridor.

He tapped lightly on the door where a countless amount of golden colored writing usually was. He was surprised that on that beautiful March day, the writing was green instead of gold. Something was going on. From what he had heard, his mentor had been out of sorts all day. Although he had not seen the chocolatier on that particular day, he was still left to wonder what was happening with his best friend.

After several moments of waiting, the door swung open and he raised his head and smiled at the confectioner who stood before him. Willy Wonka, who always dressed in an eccentric and impeccable style, and today, was no different. He was presently donned from top hat to feet in various shades of green.

"Happy St. Patrick's Day, Charlie my boy," he said happily as he took in Charlie's blue jeans and matching shirt. "Where's your green? You can't tell me that you have gone outside without so much as a green pair of socks on."

"Green?" Charlie took a deep breath. In the haste of getting through the day, he had completely forgotten about the well-known Irish holiday. He looked at his best friend and smiled. "You seemed to have remembered for both of us," he said with a smirk.

Willy shook his head. "That's not good enough, Charlie, you know the tradition, if you don't have anything green on, you get pinched. I hate being pinched, so I made doubly sure that no one would come and try anything like that with me today." He ran his hand through his curly blonde hair as he began to move his index finger and thumb as though wanting to pinch his protégé.

"If you want to pinch me, you're going to have to catch me first," Charlie said as he began to bounce from one foot to another in the way a track and field runner would before taking off. He smiled at Willy, his blue eyes filled with mischief. He knew beyond any doubt that there was no possible way for the chocolatier to catch up with him as he had been running ever since he was a little boy.

Willy took a deep breath, but eventually retracted his hand and looked at Charlie. "You're no fun," he said as he offered the young man a slight pout. "I can't very well do this with the Oompa Loompas as they have green hair and your mother and grandparents are too busy with spring cleaning. That leaves only you, my boy."

"Why is this day so important to you?" Charlie asked curiously. He had, over the past five or so years in the factory noticed that Willy always became somewhat melancholy on that particular day, but he could never quite figure his mentor out. After several years, he had given up. "The thing is, you get this way every year when this day comes around, but it's just another day, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Willy said as he sat down at his desk, his elbows now resting against the hard wooden surface. "I guess some people get melancholy on New Years, and this happens to me on St. Patrick's Day. I can't figure it out any better than you, I'm afraid." He shook his head, but somewhere lodged in his mind, he had a secret that he was not quite certain he trusted himself to relate to another.

"Maybe there's a reason," Charlie said softly. "Maybe you remember a girl or something."

Willy took a deep breath, but continued to shake his head. "The last time I dated was when I was running the shop on Cherry Street. That couldn't be it."

Charlie thought for several moments. "Well, do you have strange feelings about Ireland, or green beer?" The teenager smirked all the while knowing that the chocolatier rarely drank. In fact, the only time that he did was when some sort of celebration was happening and he would splurge on a glass of sweet red wine.

"I don't think so," Willy said, but rubbed his hands together. "Charlie, I really don't know what it is about this day."

He got to his feet and started to walk slowly out of the office, his steps casually lining up next to the teenager's. His intentions of pinching the young man were now forgotten. In fact, he could see a small tinge of green on the designs of Charlie's shirt, which dispelled the ideas of pinching anyway. Taking a deep breath, he noticed that after some time had passed, Charlie's height was very close to matching his own.

"A mark of springtime," Charlie suggested. "The end of winter, when everything is green and beautiful. I mean; you quote Shakespeare all the time, and yet, you always seem to draw away from us whenever the weather starts to change."

"That could be it," Willy said. "Sometimes I'm lonely here. I watch you leave each day going to school. Although I love the factory and enjoy the work we do, I realize that I have never felt too terribly inclined to step outside.

"Maybe you should," Charlie said softly as a piercing siren could suddenly be heard pealing its way through the factory. As the shrill sounds filled both of Charlie's ears as well as the chocolatier's healthy one. It had suddenly become clear that there was an intruder on the premises. "Oh great," he muttered as Willy started to make his way down the hallway.

"Let's talk about this later," he said urgently.

Charlie nodded and started to follow the chocolatier.

* * *

On the other side of the factory, one of the last remaining Irish Leprechauns was using the abandoned building on the outskirts of the factory grounds as a place to hide. His name was Paddy and he was now concealed in one of the air conditioning ducts that separated the large abandoned building from the confines of the factory.

He had run into the building trying to get away from a group of teenagers who were now chasing him. "I almost lost it, I did," he whispered under his breath as he ran his small hand through his hair. "If they be catching me, I would have been done for." His gaze shifted and he noticed that through the luck of the siren, his pursuers would have no doubt captured him and forced him to foretell the precise location of his gold.

A leprechaun without his gold was rather a worthless commodity, but he intended on keeping his.

He looked down at his clothing and stared at the green colored trousers he wore. Over his mystical green eyes, they were concealed by green-lens glasses that covered them. Through them, everything he viewed of the world was green in color.

The sounds of the siren was still a rather scary thing to his somewhat larger shell shaped ears. Soon, that sound dissipated and was replaced by the sounds of soft footsteps as they approached. Looking around, he noticed that he was now hidden amidst the ventilation system, the fragrance of chocolate filling his nose and making him smile.

Instead of speaking or even acknowledging this, he noticed a man dressed entirely in green, and a teenager looking around the area somewhat nervously.

"Mr. Wonka, I don't see anything out here, maybe a cat or dog triggered the siren," the leprechaun heard the younger man speak. His gaze however was on the man in the green suit and curly light colored hair that was concealed by the green top hat. Even without the hat, this man seemed to tower over where he was hiding. As the older of the two pointed through a passageway some distance away Paddy released a sigh of relief at not being seen.

"Check that row of boxes, Charlie, I'll check near the walls," the voice of the older man emerged once again.

This was a kind sounding voice, and Paddy arched one of his ears in order to listen.

When he thought the voices had faded, he started to crawl out of his hiding place, only to feel someone's hand coming to rest on his shoulder. This was not a sentiment of 'gotcha'; instead, the feeling that emanated through him was warmth.

He raised his head and regarded the man. A gentle smile lined his face, and it immediately gave Paddy the feeling that his tall captor was uninterested in legends and leprechauns. Instead, he smiled as though he had made some great discovery in finding him concealed in his ventilation system.

"Do not tell me that you are a spy wanting to gain access into my factory," the man said, his voice still as soft as it had been when he and the boy had been searching the area for intruders.

"I be no spy, me good man," Paddy responded. "Me name is Paddy."

"Paddy?" The man nodded as though recognition overcame him. Instead of saying whether or not it did, he rested his hand over the velvety softness that covered his chest as an act of introduction. "My name is Willy, but I must admit that I did not expect to see anymore of your people for a very long time."

"You be not interested in legends or gold, or am I mistaken?" Paddy asked.

"No, nothing of the sort," Willy said. "I assure you."

"You are strange, not like most people I have encountered," the short man said. "Why be that the case?"

"I don't really know, perhaps because many years ago, I had an experience that changed my life. I met someone who was very kind and she taught me about embracing the gifts that I am capable of giving. For that reason, perhaps I hold no interest in gold," Willy said honestly. "I would like to help you as she helped me so long ago."

"You cannot help me, to do so would mean that I must help you in return, and I do not think you require my help," Paddy said, a secret smile crossing the face of the short man. From Willy's vantage point, he was even smaller than the Oompa Loompas.

Before the chocolatier could even speak, the voice of the tiny man emerged, thus bringing him back to their conversation. "It was long foretold to me that I would find a man in this place who had far more worth than all the gold in Ireland. You have that worth, or am I mistaken?"

"I don't know," Willy responded. "Someone once told me this a very long time ago. I was sixteen back then, and had just opened my shop on Cherry Street."

"You were the man from many years ago, the one who wanted nothing more than to make people happy on a small side street here in town," Paddy said with a nod of his head. "You met me sister, Lorelei, and she told you that if you plant your seeds of love then the world will revere and love you as one maker of magic and a dreamer of dreams. She presented you with a gift, a small shamrock that told you that each time you touched it, that you would find an answer to a question, an opening of a door, a revelation that would change your life forever. Yet, I know that you have never touched it or made a wish upon it. Why?"

"I don't wish for anything," Willy said earnestly. "I wanted to preserve these wishes and hopes and make them real in my own way. I wanted to use them when I felt that there was nothing left for me to do but have them. Right now, I do have much to be grateful for, Paddy."

The leprechaun smiled and nodded. "You are not happy, dear Willy. You have a home that is grand and vast, but you have no family in which to share that home with. Perhaps it is time for ye to go out into the world and discover that having things is not so special as having others."

"Mr. Wonka?" The voice of Charlie suddenly filled the chocolatier's healthy ear.

Willy looked at Paddy. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course," he smiled. "Leave the sanctuary, and find joy that you have missed out on. All of your friends will somehow understand your need to break free. Lorelei sends her love to you, and your kindness shall never be forgotten. Be kind to yourself, and through that you will help my people tenfold."

Willy smiled as he watched the small man disappear. In the palm of his hand he discovered the shamrock and he looked down at the object that lay in the palm of his hand.

"Close your eyes, make a wish, count to three," he mumbled as Charlie approached where he was standing, a smile now shadowed across his face.

He nodded. "Charlie, I found the intruder and sent him home. But, I think that there is still something I want to do."

"What's that?" The boy asked.

"I want to go for a walk in the park," he smiled. "Would you care to join me?"

"Of course," Charlie said smiling. After several moments passed, he looked at his mentor. "Mr. Wonka did you figure out why it was you were sort of sad today?"

"Yes, but Charlie, from now on, you can do something that will make me very happy."

"What?" The young man was confused.

"Start calling me Willy, and not just be my apprentice, but be my best friend and equal," he smiled as the boy's eyes brightened considerably and he nodded.

"Really?" He embraced the chocolatier and then backed up, his eyes almost at the same level as that of his friend.

"Aye, lad," Willy said in with an almost flawless Irish lilt and the teenager laughed. "Am I too green?" He asked curiously as he regarded the teenager mischievously.

"No, you actually fit in perfectly with spring," Charlie said as he backed away from the chocolatier and they walked towards the door leading outside. "At least you won't get pinched, Willy."

"Nor will you," Willy said and before Charlie could speak, the touched the shamrock and mumbled something under his breath.

Charlie, instead of speaking, looked down at his clothing and noticed that he was now dressed in the exact same style and color as his friend. He was even wearing a matching green top hat.

"'There is real magic in enthusiasm. It spells the difference between mediocrity and accomplishment'," Willy said smiling as he gave the teenager an approving nod. "Maybe I'm not too old to recognize it after all."

Charlie smiled, the teenager liking his new look.

* * *

_End--Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone!_

_Quotation by Norman Vincent Peale._


End file.
